


In the Clear Yet?

by fearandlothering



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cunnilingus, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, Scissoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 00:52:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2793794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fearandlothering/pseuds/fearandlothering
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love is nothing without laughter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Clear Yet?

**Author's Note:**

> As if I own any of this? Please.

This used to be fun, the two of them. Freeing, really. Rainger could barely remember a time the weight on her shoulders of expectations, the roles and rules that followed, had been so easily discarded (or at least put on pause). Alone in those moments shared between her and her lover, with curious fingers that traced the outline of soft curves instead of the harsh, rough line of weaponry, there were no expectations, and certainly no titles.

Here, in this embrace, she'd been only a woman, and nothing more. _Sex_ , she'd said, _is a great leveller_. Naked, everyone was equally vulnerable. The power play, with it's "stupid rules," wasn't meant for the bedroom, and here the Inquisitor was no one but a woman with a "honey tongue."

Though, Rainger had once wondered with her fingers clawing at the bed sheets, if that pet name was truly meant for her, and not the woman whose head had settled between her legs, licking her open and making her writhe into the mattress. Laughter was always present as warm breath brushing over her hip, when Rainger's head fell back with Sera's name hissed through clenched teeth, or drawn out loud and slow as the pleasant buzz of her climax came over her in a rushing wave.

But lately, the laughter had given way to a mantra of Rainger's own name--her _real_ name--over and over in quiet repetition, said as if Sera might forget it if she didn't commit it to memory through touch. Once-freedom had become desperation, a need for tactile intimacy, as if by clinging fast to her hips, and burrowing between her breasts, Sera could lose herself in the moment and hide in embrace.

This time more than most, though she played at calm normalcy with a convincingly bright--yet dimmed--smile. Clothing had been discarded in the usual fashion: thrown, with a flair, about the room, over the banister, a boot landing out on the balcony. And "honeyed" words were spoken softly into into her skin as their legs intertwined. And yet, despite how normal it felt, how Sera's touch left Raigner dizzy, something in their shared moments had changed.

Sera had spoken of vulnerability once, like a joke, and yet in her insistent kiss and persistent touch, Rainger could feel the ache of her fear as if she were seeing it herself, the sting of loss as if it were a new wound and not a (barely) distant memory. And perhaps her own grip tightened back.

She looked up at Rainger as her hips continued to slide back and forth in a frantic, needy motion, her eyes wide and confused.   
  
"I do something?" she asked, not stopping, perhaps not even aware that her bottled up (and at times, ill-expressed) fear had become so pervasive, so present. The girl who gave too much, of others and herself, too afraid to take and keep it for herself needed to know. 

Rainger smiled, shook her head, and bucked her own hips upward. "I'd prefer you _kept_ doing something."

It stayed there, in words unspoken, hanging in the air between them: the fear was not hers to shoulder alone.

"Ohhhh?" she asked, drawing the word out, as she leaned in, close enough to press her lips to the pointed tip of Rainger's ear. The laughter returned.


End file.
